


Hunger

by Oscar_drives_me_Wilde92



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oscar_drives_me_Wilde92/pseuds/Oscar_drives_me_Wilde92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has had a very busy day at work and just wants to rest when he gets home. However certain cravings just will not let him. Will he finally end up with what he's wanted for a very long time now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Ok first Johnlock so it's only a oneshot but if it goes down well I'll have another posted soon!=)  
> Please ignore any spelling and grammer mistakes, they will be fixed as soon as I have time!

John felt very, very tired. He had had a long day working since it was flu season (and maybe because he had broken up with Sarah and she wasn't too accommodating with his hours).

But it was mostly because of the evil, villainous common cold that just never took a holiday around this time of year. It had seemed like the flow of little old ladies with handkerchiefs and mothers with squealing babies rocking on their hips and sour looking men who claimed they were dying were truly never ending. Finally, his office clock struck eight and he was allowed to grab his coat and rush home.

He had just entered 221B Baker Street and flopped down in his favourite chair, when he suddenly groaned out loud. He had forgotten to grab some take out on his way home to his inviting (if not messy and hazardous thanks to all of Sherlock's experiments) flat.

He had been in such a hurry it had completely slipped his mind.

The idea of getting up was painful, but then the angry growling from his stomach was getting quite irritating.

"Oh now you make an appearance. Couldn't have spoken up in the cab no?" said John looking disapprovingly at his stomach.

"What John?" asked Sherlock in his best annoyed voice from his position on the couch. As if John were bothering him with his inane conversation - which he probably was.

John gave a start in surprise. When he had first come in he hadn't thought about anything except how grateful he was to be finally home. So he had failed to notice Sherlock lying curled up on the couch wearing his blue silk dressing gown, which was now scrunched up around his waist since he had his long legs pulled up tight to his chest.

His faced was pressed in to the back of the couch and all John could see was his dark curls that bounced slightly when Sherlock moved his head.

John couldn't count the number of times he'd been mesmerized by their movements; those shiny locks were almost as bad as the piercing grey eyes that never failed to send odd emotions coursing through his body.

It was an excellent example of why the doctor was so surprised that he had not immediately registered Sherlock's presence. He was always extremely aware of everything about the consulting detective. Not to mention when he was in the same room as him, lying a mere four feet away.

"Nothing Sherlock, I'm just hungry" he said getting up with a groan as he headed into the kitchen, too tired to rant at his flatmate for the body parts and strange smelling chemicals littering the counter top.

Some days it was beyond a nuisance, others, like today when he was tired and just content with being at home, he found it comforting.

As he began making tea for himself he also grabbed a mug for Sherlock. Not expecting him to drink it of course but it was still their routine.

He would prepare whatever he planned to eat or drink for Sherlock as well. Sometimes the brilliant detective would forget he didn't want to eat and would copy John's actions, for something to do or to stop John from nagging him.

Either way John sees it as a personal accomplishment and revels in his ability to keep Sherlock healthy. Well, healthier. The man did still have his own past vices to conquer after all, which would take time.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that John" called Sherlock from the sitting room his voice grumpy and John knew if he could see his face he'd be pouting as well.

"Why is that? And is the reason anything to do with the strop you're in, just when I've gotten home after a twelve hour shift?" John called back.

He heard Sherlock grunt and mutter something like "I am not in a strop", in an offended manner.

Chuckling John returned to his comfy chair placing the mugs of warm milky tea on the coffee table.

"Mycroft and his boy toy..."

John cut him off,

"Greg, not boy toy" said John with an exasperated eye roll.

"Same difference! Now do you want to hear it or not?" asked Sherlock and John guessed he was scowling.

John knew Sherlock loved that he was the only one who indulged in his moods and who persistently worked to free him from his dark thoughts and tantrums.

John honestly didn't mind, but it was not always easy. It's what friend's do he thought a little bitterly. However he pushed that feeling away quickly.

He was so very grateful for what he and Sherlock had and it was enough. As long as Sherlock wanted their friendship too then it would be enough.

"Yes, go on" said John taking a sip of his tea.

"Mycroft and his...Greg are insisting we join them for dinner tonight. They'll be here by nine" He said angrily.

"And John Mycroft won't let it go. He says if we don't show up he'll keep coming here and sitting in your chair and annoying me!" he finished sitting up so quickly the couch didn't even have time to squeak.

"He's asked before?" asked John already knowing the answer. Greg was one of his best mates and they often spent nights at the pub discussing the Holmes brothers, work and sports. But he didn't want Sherlock to think he was talking about him behind his back.

Although he thought with a blush, most of those nights when they had had a few too many and the conversation had turned to deeper, more serious matters; his sentiments toward the younger man were very flattering to say the least, not to mention inappropriate.

"Yes! But I don't want to and I..." suddenly the detective bit his lip as if he were afraid of saying too much.

John immediately recognised the guilty look that now clouded those grey piercing eyes, which possessed the power to eclipse any wild storm.

It made John suspicious. "And...?" he prompted, his brow furrowing as he tried to convey to Sherlock that lying would not be advisable.

"And nothing John, I just know the whole evening will be dull and pointless so I do not wish to even entertain the idea of us going" he said his face calm, his voice convincingly cold and distant. But his eyes still did not meet the doctors for whatever reason.

Still feeling suspicious John tried to think what the man was going to say but his growling stomach could not be ignored any longer.

John sighed, he knew from experience the mood Sherlock was in that it was a lost endeavour to drag him to dinner. Besides the detectives lip was already pouted in an adorable childish manner. It contrasted so oddly with Sherlock's other wonderfully eccentric personality traits, that he felt it would be better for him to leave before he did something stupid.

"Ok Sherlock, you stay and I'll make your excuses. Even though it would have been nice for you to come too"

"Great John I knew you would see logic...wait too?" he asked in a rare confused tone.

"Well I'm going Sherlock; I haven't gone out for a nice meal in ages." He said heading to get ready; he still had a good half an hour before the couple came to pick them up.

"What No!" he cried and John was surprised by the flash of shock that had spread over Sherlock's pale face and even more so when the man jumped up as if to grab him.

"Sherlock what's wrong? Just because you hate socialising doesn't mean I have too!" said John allowing a tiny bit of irritation to creep into his voice.

He had no idea what was going on in that amazing brain, but his stomach would not allow him time to decipher it right now.

He wasn't proud of it but it was true.

"But John..." said Sherlock "That is defeating the purpose of not going".

"Sherlock, why? What's wrong? Just tell me please".

But Sherlock looked resolved to keep what was bothering him to himself and simply flopped back down on the couch.

"Fine go to your little dinner party, I don't care." Sherlock said coldly.

John hated when Sherlock got like this, he would shut down completely. John saw him do this to everyone else but he normally allowed himself to open up around him.

Frowning to himself he went to get ready. Did he really think he was so special? They were friend's that was all.

It was time for the doctor to return to his soldier persona and hold his head up high. It was not personal, Sherlock didn't know he was hurting John.

He knew what he was getting himself into when he realised how much he cared for the tall, amazingly strange and fascinating man.

It was the same day he had realised that he didn't just appreciate Sherlock for his mind, because god how he did.

Sherlock was just so interesting and funny without even trying. He makes me laugh; he knows how to drive me crazy, how to snap my patience like a twig, he knows me thought John to himself.

Pasting a smile on his face, that felt more like a grimace, he tried to look forward to the dinner. * * *

Sherlock lay with his face pressed into the fabric of the chair trying to keep his emotions in check. That was the problem he thought furiously.

Before John he had always been able to control his mind, his body. Now he was lying on his couch not out of boredom or anything so mundane but frustration.

Sighing out loud he could hear John moving around upstairs getting ready. He felt a snarl building as he thought of Mycroft and remembered their earlier meeting.

It had been the seventh time in so many days that his older (pain of) a brother had come calling, saying how enjoyable it would be for them all to dine out together.

Sherlock could handle the cruel cutting quips that they usually resorted to while in one another's company; he even welcomed it on the Friday, when John had to work late, as an enjoyable distraction.

No, what had annoyed him was the sudden urge Mycroft had for them all to become so friendly with each other. True Mycroft wasn't as opposed to dealing with people as he himself was and fine Sherlock and John were more than "people" but so what?

He put up with Greg and Mycroft in his daily life, what with cases and Mycroft's little visits.

But trying to intervene on his time with John? That tried his restraint like nothing could. Especially since he felt he had been doing better lately.

He no longer made sure John stuck to his side constantly when they were out on cases- well much. He no longer interrupted every conversation John had with Greg (Yes this was around the time that it became clear Greg was in love with Mycroft) but still!

Did he not deserve some reward? Just because he had broken up with Sarah did not mean that John wanted to spend his free time out on dinners, scoffed Sherlock.

Until he found out that John seemed to like that idea, very much so in fact.

This made Sherlock frown even more. He decided that he definitely hated Mycroft now. And Greg for that matter, he used to not mind the man, but not anymore.

He heard the familiar creak of the stairs as John descended. Sherlock couldn't help but look up and he was glad he did.

John having been an ex-soldier was in very good shape, the dark blue jumper he wore over a chequered shirt and tight blue jeans showed off his muscled physique brilliantly.

His tanned skin and slightly damp hair showed he had obviously taken a quick shower. It looked so inviting that Sherlock was sharply reminded of why he was so annoyed and he quickly hid his face once again.

John always looked well of course but why was he putting so much effort in? It was just Mycroft and Grey.

"Ok Sherlock I'm going to be going soon, last chance to come with me". His voice sounded so hopeful that Sherlock nearly capitulated right there and then.

But he stayed strong. He did not want to submit because once he did so, he would be consenting that John going would be ok. Sherlock just felt too selfish to do that.

Damn emotions, he thought sourly.

"Sherlock" said John his voice a little lower now. He had come to sit on the coffee table, only inches away from him.

Sherlock suddenly felt a strong and warm hand on his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

"What is this all about huh?" said John his eyes sweet and kind and also a little hurt. Probably because he was lying to him he thought.

Then John said "Please" in that way where his eyes widen slightly and he looks strong and understanding, yet so cuddly and helpless all at once. It makes Sherlock want to wrap him in his arms forever and give him whatever he needs.

But he knows he can't. He might feel John was made for him but that doesn't make it true. There was just too much evidence to the contrary.

When the silence stretched out Sherlock could see John's eyes becoming more determined. The eyes of a man who faced death head on and lived to tell the tale; a man who jumped in front of danger fearlessly to protect Sherlock, no matter the circumstances.

Sherlock could feel an awful heat in the pit of his stomach. A feeling thought to be lost for so many years had now awakened, starving.

It was John's fault. He was so close and that look... it just did things to him.

"Tell me Sherlock. Tell me right now or so help me god..." said John his voice rising louder with every word, "I'll make you tell me Sherlock I swear"

"I don't want you to go to the dinner!" shouted Sherlock his baritone voice booming with his outburst.

John looked surprised by this but before he could say anything Sherlock plunged on ahead.

"You're mine John" he clarified sitting up on the couch, heat rushing to his pale cheeks as he continued

"It's not fair that Mycroft and Greg get you. You are mine and no one else's. That's what's wrong. I can't describe how I feel except that I need you and I want you to need me too."

And there it was. The words were out and they rung through the room louder than any bell. Sherlock felt awful, selfish and anxious all at once.

Would he start to rant and shout? Would he move out because he didn't return his feelings? John -no matter how long and hard Sherlock observed him- was always surprising him and tonight was no exception.

One minute he was sitting there shocked, the next a small smile crossed his face lightening it up like a ray of sunshine and then suddenly his warm mouth was smashing into Sherlock's.

Sherlock was so surprised that he let out a gasp allowing John to push his tongue into Sherlock's mouth, invading it in the most delicious way possible. John's lips were firm against his and he occasionally bit down on his lower lip, before gently sucking it into his own mouth extracting an obscenely loud groan from Sherlock.

He could feel himself being pushed back onto the couch and with one graceful movement Sherlock was rewarded with a lapful of John Watson, a groaning and very pleased John Watson going by his moans and gasps, which echoed Sherlock's own.

Sherlock pulled back slightly trying to catch his breath, the movement allowed his pale throat to become Johns next target. He began to assault it with open mouth kisses that had Sherlock squirming in seconds. He was soon biting down on the soft skin between Sherlock's shoulder and neck, making him go even harder if that was possible.

He knew if he looked down now his pyjama pants would be tented, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

It all just felt so incredible. He gripped John's strong shoulders and shyly moved his hands further down, rubbing them over his chest, but it wasn't enough. He needed to explore further.

Pulling his shirt form his tight jeans he caressed John's chest feeling the strong muscle underneath his fingertips shiver with longing. Feeling bolder he began to move his head down so he could press kisses to the skin he had exposed, which made John throw his head back and bite his already bruised lip.

Sherlock kissed until he reached one pink enticing nipple that tightened wonderfully in his mouth. He sucked gently and felt John begin to rock in his lap, grinding his own erection against Sherlock's desperately seeking friction.

Encouraged by this Sherlock licked a trail to the other neglected nipple and bit and sucked until John was a moaning mess of arousal.

It felt so amazing to have made him come undone like this. Sherlock wasn't very experienced. He had one or two encounters at University but those people had never mattered to him. They were simply experiments to slake his curiosity.

Everything with John was so different. Every touch felt more heated then the first and he just couldn't get enough.

For once his mind was able to sit back and let his body take over. Good emotions thought Sherlock with praise.

"Sherlock" John panted in need.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked in a whisper desperately wanting to give John what he needed and wanting this to last forever.

"Too much clothes" he said leaning forward again to start slowly unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt.

His gentle ministrations were enough to calm any nerves Sherlock may have had and by the time they were fully naked and John was back in his lap they were both so very hard it was almost painful.

Sherlock felt like his body was over heating, the feel of Johns erection rubbing against his own made him thrust his hips on pure instinct wishing to plunge into John's body hard and fast and to make him scream out his name.

Then all of a sudden John was moving, slipping from his lap and Sherlock tried to grab for the shorter man's hips but he simply shook his head with amusement and lust coloured eyes making Sherlock growl low in his throat.

"Upstairs" said John quietly.

Sherlock really couldn't see fault with that idea when he was pushed on to his bed and a naked aroused John followed him.

John leaned over him and kissed him but it wasn't like the first time. It still felt incredible and heated but it was slower, sweeter. They took their time sucking on each other's tongue, learning and memorizing the others taste.

Soon John straddle him his thighs resting on either side of Sherlock's waist and he was helpless not to grab at the tanned hips so he could keep him there pressed against him.

"Sherlock, I haven't um... well I haven't ever been with a man" said John quietly as he ran his fingers trough Sherlock's hair before kissing his neck again and sucking softly on his Adams apple.

Sherlock had already suspected as much but hadn't expected the feelings those words would conjure.

He felt honoured and humbled that John would want this with him but he also felt completely possessive. The feeling was enhanced by the idea that he would be his first and his only because Sherlock knew after knowing what John and he could have he would never do with anything else.

For John he would try to do anything he could to make him happy he promised himself.

"That's ok John. Why don't you top this time? So you can slowly get used to it."

"Are you sure?" asked John looking concerned "I don't want to hurt you".

"You won't. I'll show you what to do" said Sherlock loving how much John cared for him and how he wasn't afraid to hide those feelings in his face.

Soon Sherlock lay panting and withering on the bed begging to be filled by John. He had never felt so empty when John had pulled out his fingers or so excited at the prospect of John entering him.

John did so slowly waiting for Sherlock to adjust to his size. He leaned over him pressing kisses along his temple, his cheekbones and finally his lips before whispering "I love you" and then pulling out only to plunge back in again.

Sherlock screamed so loud he was sure all of Scotland Yard would show up soon enough with complaints from annoyed and scandalised neighbours.

"O god John" panted Sherlock as he felt himself being amazingly stretched and then he seriously thought he would pass out. John, with his next thrust, found his prostate which made Sherlock arch off the bed with another cry.

"Oh gods please John!" he groaned and was rewarded by the army doctor grabbing his leg to throw it over his own shoulder. This new position allowed him to push deeper inside and hit that spot every time.

"Sherlock you're so tight" moaned John as sweat beaded on his forehead his thrusts increasing. He bent down to press his lips to Sherlock's in a messy kiss, swallowing Sherlock's moans as he felt a tightening and a delicious warm heat spread through his stomach.

He knew he was close and suddenly he was coming harder than he ever had before. His body shook from aftershocks of his orgasm when he felt John bite down hard on his neck and coming himself allowing warm liquid to coat his insides.

John collapsed on top of him and Sherlock quickly wrapped his arms around the smaller man chuckling when John said in a satisfied tone,

"We should have been doing this sooner".

"I agree" said Sherlock amusement clear in his voice, "I guess we'll just have to make up for lost times"

It was Johns turn to laugh now, "I think shagging each other senseless would indeed be the best remedy. And that is my professional opinion" he finished smiling.

He soon became serious though.

"I really do love you you know" he said locking eyes with Sherlock making him feel like he was the most important thing in the universe. This really wasn't fair because it was John who was the most important thing ever and he should know that.

I'll just have to show him thought Sherlock with a grin thinking of all the ways he could.

His grin slowly faded when his old insecurities came back.

"But John you could do so much..." but he was silenced by warm lips.

"Stop just tell me you love me too and we can live happily ever after" said John grinning.

Sherlock felt himself smile again as he curled up at Johns side loving how his head fitted so comfortably on the army man's chest.

"I love you John Watson" whispered Sherlock.

"I love you too Sherlock Holmes" said John laughing in amusement as he ran his fingers through the detectives hair.

Sherlock suddenly sat up startled.

"Oh no John! Weren't you hungry?" he asked eyes worried.

"Yes I was" said John a cheeky grin spreading across his features "I was starving but I've been probably sated for now."

"I'll probably be ravenous again though in a few minutes" he said with a mock pout as he looked Sherlock over from head to toe making him blush slightly, which John thought looked lovely against his pale skin.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but leaned over to kiss the man he really could not live without. The man he knew would always be there for him.

"You are mine" he said while still kissing John.

"I know. And you're mine".

They had to both separate when Sherlock got a text, so he could bend over to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

Laughing he quickly got back into bed to allow John to read the text. John couldn't help but laugh as he read.

Sherlock ignored him and snuggled back down onto his army doctor complaining until John went back to stroking his hair.

"Good old Greg" said John grinning.

"Sherlock, I apologise, however Gregory and I got held up. We shall not be attending dinner."-Mycroft.


End file.
